99 Blind Dates
by Magiclulajane
Summary: Two years after the Wizardry war, the Ministry decides (along with the order) that the only way to breach the gap between the opposing sides is to pair up former students from the most famous class ever to graduate, Harry Potter's, and force them to spend quality time together. My take on the Marriage Law fic, but without the Marriage bit, full summary inside.
1. The Law, the Weasleys, and the Slytherin

**I know I'm still writing Scorpius, and I HAVEN'T GIVEN UP! But in a moment of writers block I wrote this and many other story starts and I actually thought this one was rather good, so please R&R!**

FULL SUMMARY: A few years after the war minister shacklebolt decides to pair up students from Harry and Ginny's years to bridge the gap between the opposing sides. NOT a marriage law or even really a dating one but the have to spend a minimum of three days a week in each others company. Will there tentative new friendships survive years of prejudice, and will they blossom into something more?

Ok admittedly terrible summary. Just give it a go.

"Well Joe I've gotta tell you we've had a lot of odd encounters with these little fella's over the years but this one seems to be the most widespread, even more so than the flurry two years ago-though with a new development, several of the beloved birds, previously believed to be entirely nocturnal, appear to be carrying letters-"

Harry Potter groaned, pressing the off switch and turning the cracked screen black. He'd found the tiny television in the attic of Grimmauld place, probably some elaborate prank of Sirius' that was never carried out, or a colorful addition to one of Kreachers collections. It was old, and not good for much but picking up the muggle news-which was interesting from time to time-but it was one of the few things he had that had probably belonged to his godfather, so he'd lugged it into Regulus' old bedroom and let it gather dust where he could see it.

Today, however, was one of the rare day's the news was actually worth watching, as it confirmed the slip of parchment folded in his hand. The letter's had come from the ministry, today was really it. Harry glared silently at the envelope, silently willing it to have the courage to do what he'd failed to in the past hour and open up. Unfortunately, plan B was a no go. He grabbed his mug off the table-Kreachers best coffee which he'd spiked with a bit of firewhisky. Kingsley had explained the reasoning to him, why the law was SO necessary, and why the only eligible group for it's completion was Harry's year-the most famous class of hogwarts students still young and mostly unmarried. He also knew he'd agreed to it. That didn't mean he had to like it.

With wizarding Moral and population at an all time low, along with the imminent slow and painful rebuilding of the ministry, Kingsley, along with several order members had decided the best thing they could do would be to enforce a new law. For exactly one year, the entire class of '98 along with the class of 99' would be randomly paired and forced on what Kingsley called a long-term blind date. Not a marriage law, but enough to force him, and everyone he knew, to spend "quality time" with there opposition. It was the perfect plan in most people's eyes, probably because it didn't affect them in the slightest.

And here it was, unopened in his slightly shaky hands, the letter that would tell him the name of the girl he had to spend 365 days with.

"Your a bloody Gryffindor for Godrics sake-you're the chosen one-you killed the greatest dark wizard of all time, you inadvertently survived the killing curse twice-you sound bloody insane." He banged his head against the peeling green wallpaper he hadn't bothered to refurbish.

"Come on Potter," He said, chucking the letter towards the unlit fireplace. Why is it always me, he thought with a smile, remembering when Neville had echoed those words dangling from a chandelier in Lockhart's office in their second year. Neville! Neville and Ron and Hermione would have there letters by now-he'd gotten his ages ago. With that thought he sent another glare at the purple parchment.

"Man up Potter," He muttered, and swinging his feet off his bed he grabbed the envelope and trying not to think about what he was doing, ripped it open. A thin slip of lavender paper toppled out, emblazoned with this curling letters. Legal reasoning, rationings, guidelines, fiscal reimbursements, he skimmed the letter until he reached the very bottom, were a single name was printed in swift black ink. Harry gulped and forced his eyes to confront it.

ASTORIA GREENGRASS

Status: Pureblood, unengaged.

Previous house: Slytherin

Work: None

Parents: Melanie and Oswald Greengrass

Notable relations: Pansy Parkinson, cousin, Daphne Greengrass, sister.

23 words. That was everything he knew about Astoria Greengrass. She might have been that tall blonde girl who hung around gossiping Pansy Parkinson, or the one who used to talk to Malfoy with the red hair so dark it was almost black, or just some faceless person. A slytherin, an enemy.

He tucked the parchment into his breast pocket and downing the rest of his "coffee" drew out his wand.

"Incendio," He muttered, pointing at the fireplace in front of him which burst forth into dancing flames. He grabbed a handful of gritty green powder, and tossed it in, turning the fire a rather unpleasant shade of green.

"KREACHER GOING OUT!" He yelled and wincing he stepped into the fire, it was high time he met with his friends. "The Burrow!" he shouted, and everything started to spin.

It was only a matter of moments before he tumbled onto the familiar hearthrug, wincing and rubbing his neck, he'd never really liked the floo.

"OY!" A familiar voice yelled, "Harry's here," There was a great tumult of voices and Harry clamored awkwardly to his feet, meeting the eyes of a very grim faced Ron Weasley.

"How'd you do mate," Ron asked, grabbing his arm as he swayed dangerously to the left.

"Astoria Greengrass."

"Who?"

"I dunno, she's a slytherin from our year, cousin's with Parkinson." At the mention of Pansy Ron's expression darkened dangerously. Harry's eyes widened,

"No-"

"Of all the bloody girls in the School," Ron said, collapsing onto a cushy armchair that looked as though it might've been nicked from the Gryffindor common room. "Pansy Bloody Parkinson, for a whole year!" He covered his face in his hands. "I think I might have to take an tip from Dumbledore and book a one way trip of the astronomy tower." Harry winced slightly, thinking it was probably best not to mention to Ron at least he _knew_ his match, but was startled when Ron suddenly grinned.

"You won't believe who they gave Hermione-she won't come out of her room."

"Who," Harry said frowning.

"It's-your not going to believe me-I," he laughed, "I don't know if I can say it." He reached into his pocket and tugged out a slip identical to the one crumpled against Harry's chest, though as he flattened it against his knee he could make out the words "to miss Hermione Granger." He skipped to the bottom and nearly choked.

The words DRACO MALFOY were etched in the same clear print as ASTORIA GREENGRASS had been on his. Just then Ginny Weasley, her hair tucked into a messy ponytail, came storming into the room.

"Theodore Nott! Of all the lowly Slytherin bastards in this world-" She noticed Harry, who waved slightly. She glanced at him for a moment and then said,

"What's the damage?"

"Astoria Greengrass," he said digging the parchment out of his pocket and tossing it at her.

"The pretty blonde always hanging around Parkinson like some sort of sick puppy?" She asked raising her eyebrows.

"Your guess is better than mine," he said with a shrug. "How'd everyone else do?"

"Well Nevilles got someone named Arabella Flourish, I think she's a Ravenclaw, Luna's got Zambini, and Hermione," She giggled slightly, obviously trying very hard not to laugh. "It's horrible really I shouldn't-"

"I've already heard about that one. Do you think they'll make it a week before one them kills the other?" But to Harry's surprise Ginny only snorted.

"More likely they'll spend the whole month waiting to see who will _speak_ first," Ron frowned.

"Where'd you get that idea?" Ginny shrugged.

"Isn't it obvious?" They both shook their heads in unison, and Ginny muttered something that sounded an awful lot like "boys".

"Well, Malfoy and Hermione-they can be a bit, _competitive_, sometimes. Mark my words it'll be the quietest hell on the planet."

"I'll take you up on that," Ron said, digging a couple coins out of his pocket. "Five galleons says they fight in the first hour,"

"Your on, Ginny said, taking the money into her pocket. Harry smiled, Ron and Ginny would always find a way to make a profit off of others suffering.

"Well," he said standing up. "I think it's time I meet this 'Astoria Greengrass.'"

"Are you serious?" Ron said jumping to his feet.

"I have to spend a year with her, he answered, shrugging. "Might as well start now." He grabbed a handful of the powder on the fireplace mantle, as gritty and green as it had been back at grimmauld place. He grinned, stepping into the flames. "Give Hermione my love!" and then yelled "GREENGRASS MANOR," and in a whir of light, everything was gone.

The real problem with the floo, in Harry's opinion, was not the rocky landings or the awful tickling sensation, or even the unpleasantly warm green fire. No, it was that if you decided halfway to your destination that it would be better to go back, maybe talk ask Fred or Charlie who they'd gotten, or try to talk to Hermione-anything but barge into the mansion of the random Slytherin girl you're meant to date for a year and look like an idiot when you can't make the landing off there fireplace. No take backs, bloody wizarding transport.

Greengrass manor must have been awfully far away, because Harry had a good three minutes to consider how stupid he was too rashly dive into the fire before the spinning started to slow. _Well you've done it now_, he thought as he spotted a great plate of black marble dusted with ash that could only have belong to a Pureblood. _Here goes nothing_, he thought struggling to keep his eyes open as he bent his knees anticipating the crash-

BOOM. He skidded across the marble fireplace his trainers dragging across what felt like wood as he stumbled down onto the floor, his glasses falling over his nose. Still, he didn't hear anyone coming, maybe no one was home? He scrambled awkwardly to his feet dusting off his jeans and slipping his holly wand, which had skidded across the floor, back into his pocket. He pushed his glasses back over the bridge of his nose. Less idiotic. Not good, but not awful. He waited a moment, listening for a yell or a footstep, anything to suggest the whole place wasn't hopelessly abandoned. Nothing.

"Er, Hullo?" He said rather loudly, walking up to the door and pushing it open. He leaned out of the doorframe searching for some sign of human existence...

"Most people knock you know." Harry jumped and turned on the spot, grabbing his wand from his pocket and pointing it towards-a girl. A slim blonde girl with pale blue eyes that reminded him eerily of Malfoy. Her lip was curved and her eyebrows raised, like he'd just managed a troll on some sort of test. _Greengrass_, he thought, not lowering his wand.

"What did Pansy Parkinson say when Voldemort asked for me as ransom for the safety of Hogwarts?" The questions. During the war polyjuice potion had saved him multiple times, he'd been fooled by it before. He knew there was no reason anyone would try to fool him into thinking they were someone else, but it was a habit he hadn't been able to kick. But he didn't know Astoria Greengrass, all he knew was that she was a student of Hogwarts for the same seven years he was, and all of them, even the Slytherins, had heard voldemorts message before the battle. All of them had heard Parkinson sell him out. It wasn't specific enough for Harry's liking, but it would do.

"But he's there, Potter's there, someone grab him." She said coldly, her sly grin sliding into a frown. Word for word. He lowered his wand, tucking it back into his pocket.

"Sorry," he said, trying not to sound insincere but not making much of an effort. "I had to check."

"How did McGonagall refute Pansy's request?" Greengrass asked softly, fingering a bit of light yellow wood sticking out of her sleeve.

"'Thank you Miss Parkinson you will leave the hall first with Mr. Filch, if the rest of your house could follow." She seemed satisfied, at least, the wand disappeared back into her sweater. It was funny, he thought, glancing her up and down. The blonde wore a powder blue sweater and skinny jeans, muggle clothes. He'd always thought purebloods would were some sort of silver-clasped robes in there off time, or at least some ancient looking evening clothes.

"I'm Astoria Greengrass," She said, breaking the silence. "But I would assume Potter, based on the fact that you've just fell through the fireplace that you already knew that. Or have you gotten lost on the way to the lou?" He cracked a smile without realizing it, and then quickly stifled the grin, it was funny to hear a Slytherin crack a joke, they'd always seemed sort of morbid, except Malfoy, but most of his were at Harry's expense.

"No, I was really looking for the linen cabinet, but then I found this odd sort of powder lying around my house and," he raised his eyebrows suggestively. "You know how that is." She laughed, it was brief, but deep and booming-not anything like her voice which sounded like it would shatter if he pushed it to hard.

"Well," she said. "I'm personally enjoying the smell of burning flesh and the bitter cold of the marble parlor, and I'm sure sharp black angels are very familiar with," she waved a hand over his hair. "This. But if you want to go to the sitting room I don't think I'll be too heartbroken." He didn't bother with his hair, he knew from 19 years of experience it was useless, but he grinned again, somewhat awkwardly.

"Oh I suppose I'll oblige, though I have to admit, dusty gray marble and badly applied walpaper are definite turn ons for me." He fought back a blush, that didn't sound like him at all, maybe George was rubbing off on him. He met the blonde girls gaze. The corner of her mouth tipped up.

"Alright Potter, " she said, turning toward the door. "Noted." With that she walked into the hall, and with a bemused smile, he followed.

The sitting room was a lot nicer than the parlor, with a great cushy couch that was as equally gryfindorish, (except in color) as the Weasley's armchairs. Harry found himself longing to sit down, his legs still hurt from two rounds of the floo in one day, but Greengrass didn't, so he settled for eyeing them longingly.

"So, I suppose we've been set up." Greengrass spoke up, quirking one of her nearly invisible eyebrows, _never thought I'd meet anyone blonder than Malfoy_, he thought, suddenly realizing she was waiting for a response.

"Yeah-Kinsley calls it the 99 blind dates decree," he said, smiling weakly at the minister's joke.

"Kinsley?" Greengrass asked, frowning as though very displeased at the thought he might have a connection she didn't know about. _She's a Slytherin_, he thought, _she probably is_.

"Minister Shacklebolt," he said, trying very hard to make it sound like an ill placed name drop. To his surprise she laughed, not the booming laugh but a haughty tinkly one.

"So you agreed to this?" Harry felt himself redden, not trying to hide it this time.

"Well," he said, holding out his hands. "I figured it would be better than yet _another_ blood war, I mean I guess the third time round it wouldn't be _nearly _as complicated-but I don't really fancy another go." She laughed again, sincerely this time.

"Well, I suppose I could give you a few spoilers-Snape was really Dumbledores, and Dumbledore is dead, and the snake is a Horcrux-" She stopped, cutting herself off. "But I suppose that would spoil all the _joy_ another seven years of figuring it out would bring you." He joined in laughing this time, it felt oddly liberating to laugh about all the terrible things the last few years had brought-like he was truly and sincerely acknowledging that it was over for the first time in two years.

"You know," he said, glancing back at Greengrass. "I thought all Slytherins were meant to be deceitful and cunning and avoid frankness at all costs to promote there stunning personal records." She met his eyes still smiling.

"And I thought Gryffindor's were all supposed to be great brawny arrogant thugs without an ounce of intelligence." She looked him over briefly. "I'm disappointed to say you've failed as miserably at fitting your stereotypes as I have mine." He smiled again. It felt so good to smile, really _smile_, so good he nearly forgot who he was talking to-that they were meant to be enemies.

"Yes we've both made a rather obvious blunder, haven't we?" He said, grabbing her shoulder earnestly-and hardly recognizing the physical contact. "You get used to it after a while." She laughed and soon they were both laughing until they collapsed rather awkwardly onto the couch. Eventually Harry was forced to stop for a breath.

"I don't mean to be rude," he said, and she rolled her eyes. "But I'm hungry."

"Sorry to disappoint you Potter," she said. "But I don't cook."

"Don't you have elves?" He asked, surprised

"At our actual house," she said smirking. "I was just here to find a book, we don't live in the manor."

"It is a bit horrifying," Harry said, glancing around, Astoria's jaw dropped at the frankness, but he was already standing.

"Well luckily for you, I can cook," he said holding out a hand, which she took cautiously. "Will it be pasta or pasta?" Harry didn't know why he was so comfortable around the Slytherin. Maybe it was because no one else was here-but somehow he wasn't in the mood to argue. And Greengrass was easy to talk to, he had to give her that.

The kitchen, thought dusty, had a ready stock of spaghetti and enough vegetables for a rather bland sauce. He grabbed a few plates and bowls and easily started to boil the water and mix the marinara. Astoria Greengrass watched him with raised eyebrows as he navigated around the very Dursley-ish kitchen.

"When you said you could cook I figured you knew a spell." Harry shook his head, ripping the plastic off the noodle package.

"Haven't got a clue how to cook with magic. Thought after the woods I wouldn't mind learning." He went back to his sauce, quickly adding a bit of rather old basil.

"The what?" She asked, sounding confused. Harry cursed himself, he was two used to Ron and Hermione who instantly knew everything he was talking about, mostly because they'd usually been there.

"When we were hunting down Voldemort-" Harry noticed Greengrass didn't flinch. "-All we really had to eat was whatever we could find in the woods, usually," he wrinkled his nose even thinking about it. "Mushrooms."

"Oh," Greengrass said, sounding uncomfortable, she quickly changed the subject. "Where'd you learn to cook then?"

"Muggles," he said, trying to sound casual. He hadn't seen the Dursleys since before his seventeenth birthday and he hardly ever thought about them anymore, the surge of hatred at his old guardians was oddly unfamiliar now. Astoria seemed to see through it though, because she didn't interrogate him further.

"So," she asked after a few moments of listening to the pasta sizzle. "Do you know who everyone else got." Harry nodded smiling slightly.

"Nevilles got some ravenclaw, something Flourish I think, Ron's got Pansy Parkinson-" at this Greengrass seemed to choke on the water she'd poured herself while Harry wasn't looking.

"RON WEASLEY!" Harry nodded stirring his pasta, which was nearly ready.

"He's not too pleased about it either, they never really got along..."

"You don't understand," Astoria said grimacing. "Pansy's got to be the _biggest_ drama queen in all of London, she'll-"

"-She'll have a hard time beating Ron on that front," Harry said grinning, at the thought of his ginger friend. "That's gonna be something to watch." Astoria snorted.

"Knowing Pansy you'd be better off running." Harry shook his head.

"That's not the worst of it though. You know who Hermione's got?" Astoria looked at him, narrowing her eyes.

"No..."

"Yep," he said, grinning. "Malfoy himself, Ron and Ginny have a bet going about how long they'll last."

"Bloody hell," Astoria muttered breathlessly. "For an anti-military project the Ministry is going to have a lot of murder's on it's conscience the way this is going." Harry nodded, dumping the pasta into two bowls and spreading a bit of sauce on each. He slid one over to Astoria. _When did she become Astoria_, he thought curiously eyeing the pretty blonde.

Astoria, was looking suspiciously at the pasta, poking it a bit with her fork.

"I haven't poisoned it," he said, smiling, "Thought that would have been clever." Her eyes widened and she shoved him off his seat. He scrambled up to his feet, facing the laughing blonde. "Oh, it's on Greengrass."

"You wouldn't hit a girl?" She said sweetly.

"No," he said softly, "But I have no restraints about _tickling_ one!" And with that he

lunged forward, and the battle began. Astoria's eyes widened in fear and then she doubled over laughing uncontrollably.

"P-potter! St-st-op th-this instant!" But he only laughed, and suddenly there was a shift in her eyes.

"You wanna play dirty?" She said, and she reached forward grabbing for his foot. By the time they managed to get a breath in the pasta had cooled a little and they went back to eating, mostly to avoid the horrors of tickling. It was funny, Harry thought, how easily they got along even though they weren't supposed to. Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad year after all.

"This is actually kind of good," Astoria said, taking a second wary bite of her pasta. Harry snorted.

"Was that meant to be a compliment?"

"I thought that was obvious." Harry would have laughed but his stomach hurt at the thought of it. He hadn't laughed this much in one sitting since...well, he couldn't remember.

"So Potter, beside the fact that you won the triwizard tournament when you were fourteen and defeated lord voldemort three years later I don't know much about you." Harry blushed.

"There's not much more to tell. Saving the world from a satanic psychopath is kind of a full time job, and I didn't enter that tournament, Barty Crouch Jr disguised as Mad Eye Moody did. And the game was rigged, Voldemort needed me in that graveyard-I didn't really win."

"Modesty?" Astoria said, sounding surprised. "Not very Gryffindor of you Potter, not very Gryffindor at all."

"Well the hat tried to put me in Slytherin," he blurted, and then his eyes widened when he realized what he'd said. No living soul knew that about him, and now he'd confessed to the pureblood girl he'd met an hour ago. He looked up at Astoria, expecting her to be choking on her pasta, but she didn't look surprised in the slightest.

"You know we always kind of expected that," she said, and noticing his confused expression elaborated. "The other Slytherins and I. The parseltongue, the sneaky plans, being unwilling to make an enemy were you weren't sure you if you could make an ally-along with the Gryffindor qualities of throwing yourself rashly into horrible situations, and even that could be treated as trusting your gut. Draco would never admit it, but your very Slytherin Potter."

"You know if you were any of my friends I think I would hex you, but that sounded a bit like praise."

"Look Potter-just because I'm in Slytherin doesn't make me some bloody psychopath. I didn't even support Voldemorts movement, my mum was a Ravenclaw who just happened to marry a pureblood. My dad died in the first war, fighting for _your_ arse, so don't insult me." Harry's eyes widened, and he held up his hands in surrender.

"Hey, I didn't mean anything by it-I thought we were trading insults, all in good sportsmanship, I never tried to target Slytherin." Astoria relaxed, her shoulders slumping as she stared down at her pasta.

"Sorry," she said after a moment of silence. "I guess we've all still got a bit of baggage from the war."

"Preaching to the choir," Harry said, downing a few noodles.

"What?" She said sounding genuinely confused. Harry laughed, he'd forgotten again that he didn't have Hermione to translate for him in the wizarding world.

"It's a muggle expression."

"Oh," she said, like that didn't clear much up but she was willing to drop it, which Harry was glad for-he was rather awful at explaining anything unrelated to defense against the dark arts.

"So Greengrass," he said, sliding his bowl towards the sink. "We've talked about the war, Voldemort, Slytherin, Gryffindor, the muggle world, I've been tickled more thoroughly than ever before-but I still know nothing about you, at least you have a basis on me."

"Oh the trials of being famous," she said feigning a dramatic sigh. "Well, what do you want to know." Harry had been afraid of that. He wracked his brain for a proper philosophical question-maybe something with the word "quintessence" in it, Hermione had used that once hadn't she?

But instead he blurted out, "What's your favorite color?" Astoria laughed and Harry blushed, but she seemed to deem the thought worthy of an answer.

"Blue," she said, "Powder blue, like the sky on a cloudless day." Harry was reminded of the dozens of such days spent lounging on the Hogwarts grounds by the lake with Ron and Hermione. One glance at Astoria and he could see she was thinking the same thing.

"Green." He said, shaking his head to clear the wistful thoughts.

"What?" She asked, copying the motion.

"My favorite color. Green, like my mother's eyes." She snorted.

"Bit narcissistic of you Potter." Harry thought he might laugh, but instead he stared down at his feet.

"There the only part of her I've got." There was another moment of silence, they seemed to be becoming quite frequent. He felt sure the Slytherin would laugh, but when he looked up her eyes shone with genuine remorse.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't know."

"It's alright," he said, and he realized he meant it. "But I do think we've pulled into a bit _emotional_ a conversation for a first encounter." She laughed, though it sounded a little forced, and when she spoke again it sounded like she was sorry to let the topic drop.

"Fair enough. Alright then, question number two, what was your favorite class at hogwarts."

"Am I being interrogated?" Harry asked grinning and then quickly glancing into his water glass like it might be spiked with veritaserum. Greengrass didn't seem to notice. "Well I can definitivly tell you that potions was my _least _favorite class-" He winced at the thought and Astoria grinned peevishly.

"If it's any help, your suffering was really very funny." Harry screwed up his nose.

"Somehow that's not very comforting." She laughed again, genuinely this time and Harry couldn't help smiling. "I guess defense against the dark arts, especially in third year."

"Didn't you teach dark arts to a bunch of Gryffindors in fifth year? Draco and Blaise mentioned-" She turned red. "Sorry about that." Harry grinned.

"Yeah, though it wasn't exclusively Gryffindor, we had about every house but, erm, Slytherin," he looked up carefully but the blonde girl seemed unfazed. "It was a bit of a pain in the arse if you'll pardon my french, and I never actually knew what I was doing."

"Yeah, well, anyone who can teach Longbottom a patronus charm is fine by me, anyone is fine by me compared to Umbridge actually," she said, grimacing, a motion which Harry copied remembering the pink clad, toad like woman, but something about Astoria's words caught him.

"I thought the Slytherins were with Umbridge?"

"Oh god no. That was only Draco being a prick-you should've heard Blaise rant, worried he wasn't going to pass his owls."

"Zambini?" Harry asked finally placing the familiar name.

"Oh yeah, biggest know-it-all in the school except Granger maybe," she said nodding at him. It was funny to hear his friends referred to like some long established rivals, talked about the way he talked about-well Slytherins. "You know his boggart in third year was Snape telling him he'd failed all his exams?" Harry's eyes widened and he broke out laughing, Astoria smiled, looking a bit confused as he clutched his stomach and wheezed.

"Sorry," he said, once he'd managed to stop enough to talk. "It's just Hermione had to be escorted from the final because she burst out of the trunk yelling that McGonagall had told her she'd flunked everything." Astoria's jaw dropped, and then she grinned.

"That's just-wow."

"Wait," Harry said, thinking back to the Weasley's with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Who did Zambini get matched up with?"

"Hm," she said, taking a sip of water. "Oh, that Lovegood girl from Ravenclaw."

"Oh no," Harry said running his hands through his already terribly messy hair. "Oh he won't last a day."

"Why?" Astoria said looking confused. "She's a ravenclaw they'll be perfect."

"You've obviously never met Luna. She-well-she likes to think, er, a bit outside the box."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Astoria said, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

"She, it's erm, it's a bit difficult to-"

"Spit it out Potter."

"Luna doesn't like to listen to logic. She believes that anything is real as long as you don't have solid proof that it isn't and she tends to be-eccentric-about expressing it, it drives Hermione mad." Astoria, who'd been absentmindedly braiding her hair let her hands drop.

"And because Blaise and Granger think the same way,"

"He'll be in said mungo's by February," Harry confirmed, smiling apologetically. Greengrass poured herself a bit more water from the pitcher and took a sip.

"Well there isn't anything I can do about that," She said, glancing down at her wrist. "But I'm afraid I have to go." Harry looked down at his own watch and jumped, it was already past noon, and the Weasleys would be expecting him for lunch. Out of habit he grabbed the bowls and started to rinse them in the sink along with the pan and their glasses, hardly taking note when Astoria left to get something from the other room. By the time he was finished she was back sitting cross legged at the table with a leather bag over her shoulder.

"Well I guess I'll see you Potter, you can show yourself out." She stood to go but something in her sentence made Harry stop.

"If were going to be friends you might as well call me Harry."

"Who said anything about friends?" she asked, making an about face in the doorframe.

"I did," he said, grinning in a very James-Potter-ish way, and with that he walked to the opposite side of the kitchen, towards the door where they'd come in. "And most people say goodbye _Astoria_."

He could hear her laugh all the way from the parlor.

**It kind of jumps right in, but likes, dislikes? What did you think of Astoria? What about Harry? Leave me a review below. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Firewhisky and Toast

**Thanks for all the follows/favorites, enjoy chapter two**.

"So you talked to her?" Ron asked, taking a sip from the mug of tea clutched in his hand. Harry set his own drink down on the table a bit sleepily, he was getting a hangover from the morning firewhisky and it could not have come at a worse time.

"Yeah," he said, yawning slightly.

"So?" Ron prompted. "How was it?" Harry grinned.

"Astoria's great. We talked about Hogwarts a bit, and Kingsleys law, how most of my fame is a lie generated by the press, the color green, houses..." He paused seeing Ron's wide eyed expression. "And quite a bit about you lot actually, and your Slytherin counterparts." Ron scowled.

"I refuse to believe there is a single Slytherin who can measure up to my pure brilliance," the ginger man said, taking another swig of his tea.

"We had a bit of an argument about you and Parkinson, and who was a bigger drama queen-" Ron choked on his drink.

"You're comparing me to _Parkinson_? And since when are you and Greengrass on a first name basis?" Harry outright laughed, tossing Ron a napkin just as Ginny walked in looking flustered.

"Hermiones in a right state," she said, plopping down across from her brother and taking a sip of his tea. "Hardly talked to me, I even bribed her with the revised addition of _Hogwarts a History_-they made that addition about house-elves she's been lobbying for since fourth year." Ron grabbed his teacup from her and tugged it away, grinning.

"Well at least Harry's got it good, he had a nice long conversation with _Astoria_." Harry blushed as Ginny gave him a curious look, raising one eyebrow suspiciously.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," he said slightly defensively. "But get this, it's not Malfoy and Hermione who are in trouble." The siblings gave him a confused look.

"From the last three hours I can attest that Malfoy and Hermione are in trouble," Ginny said, blowing a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail from her nose.

"Well yeah," Harry admitted sliding her his half-full mug of tea. "But it turns out Zambini-the dark haired bloke who was always at Slughorn's parties-he's nearly as much of a know-it-all as Hermione." Ron snorted and muttered something that sounded like "that's unlikely" while Ginny took a long sip of tea.

"So?" She said, setting down the empty mug.

"_So_, they've paired him with Luna." It took a moment for this to sink in. Ginny's eyes widened comically and she giggled, wiping a bit of tea that had dripped past her lip with the sleeve of what Harry thought was an old Weasley sweater. Ron took a moment longer.

"Oh Merlin," he exclaimed, running a nervous hand through his ginger hair. "Poor bloke'll be in Mungo's by Sunday. Harry nodded trying to suppress a grin.

"You know Ron," he said carefully. "You should really meet with Parkinson." He laughed as Ron's face erupted into a field of red splotches, his ears turning the color of his hair. Harry ducked to avoid a blow and then came up grinning at a furious Ron.

"Oh keep laughing," Ron said in a low careful voice. "You've got _Astoria_ to run back to! I got _Parkinson_! Bloody Parkinson with that evil nasally voice, and her face-she looks like a bloody pit bull!" Harry laughed louder as Ginny looked admonishing.

"Ron! You shouldn't judge a girl on the way she looks!"

"She called Hermione a bloody harlot!"

"Oy!" Harry's eyes immediately lifted from Rons ranting to the source of the voice that had just spoken, spotting a mildly familiar face he couldn't place...

"Oh Merlin," he said suddenly recognizing the bloodshot brown eyes. "Hermione?"

It was the worst he'd ever seen her, even more so than when they'd been stranded at Malfoy manor. Her hair, usually braided or tucked away neatly in some sort of ponytail was a frizzy brown lions mane around her blotchy face, her eyes were red and puffy with tears which had made her face shiny and cracked. Little bits of tissue clung to her nose, which had been rubbed raw, and her clothes, usually neat and clean, were caked with bits of what looked like treacle tart. She plopped down next to Ginny, pulling her rather thick sweater farther over her shoulders.

"I've been called many things, but a harlot is not one of them," she said, giving Ron what was probably supposed to be an accusing look, though if Harry was honest it looked a bit more like she needed a trip to the loo.

"I'm not saying it's _true_, though there was that time with Mclaggen-"

This time her glare was much more on point. She grabbed Ron's tea and took a gulp, the

contest splashing over her chapped lips. She glanced up and seemed to notice Harry, starting slightly at the sight of him.

"Harry! Who when did you get here!" Harry cracked a smile.

"I was here about two hours ago Hermione, I'm just popping in for lunch."

"Oh Harry! I can't believe I missed you, it's this awful law-" She suddenly seemed to realize what she was forgetting. "Who did you get?"

"Astoria Greengrass," He said, smiling as she tried to place the name. Finally, she seemed to give in.

"Who?"

"Slytherin in our year, she's not half bad." Ron snorted.

"'Not half bad', you were over her house for two hours and you haven't stopped ranting about her since you got back." Harry blushed. Ever since the war ended he'd managed to grow into his personality a bit, being a little more adventurous and a little less tight stung with the pressure of the "boy who lived" title off his shoulders. Less and less Ron had managed to embarrass him, but when it came to girls-he was still painfully weak.

"You're just mad because I compared you to Parkinson," Harry grinning to cover his blush.

"_Really_," Hermione said, looking pointedly at Harry and ignoring Ron, who was giving him a betrayed look. "Astoria Greengrass-is she the blonde or the redhead?"

"Blonde," Harry said, stealing his tea back from Ginny and taking a quick sip. "She's pretty nice actually, we chatted for a while, I made some pasta-"

"Oh the Romance of fake Italian food," Ginny said, falling on to Ron with an exaggerated swoon. "The sweet caress of moldy abandoned manors." Hermione grinned faintly, brushing her hair behind her shoulders and joining in.

"There's _magic_ everywhere-"

"And with all this _romantic_ atmosphere-" Ron grinned and joined them, swaying back and forth around the table.

"Disasters in the air!"

"Can you feel the love tonight? The peace the evening brings-

"The world for once-in _perfect_ harmony, with all it's living things!

"Shut up," Harry said, giving Ron a shove as the ginger man broke out in laughter. "And isn't that from _The Lion King_?"

"Not exclusively" Hermione said sheepishly, tying her hair into a hasty ponytail. "I suppose this lot have told you who I got?" She asked, standing up to get the bit of leftover toast on the kitchen counter.

"Yeah," Harry said, wincing slightly.

"I mean, he did save Harry's life," Ginny tried, in an obvious attempt at optimism, her face stretching into a smile that was more of a grimace.

"Yeah," Ron said. "Because he didn't have the guts to go through with murder-I wouldn't exactly lable that an admirable quality." Ginny gave him a kick but Hermione had already come back around, tossing her plate on the table.

"Ron's right. I don't know how I'm going to managed a year of his ferrety face," with this she took a mouthful of toast, crumbs dribbling down her sweater. Ginny gave her a bit of a nudge and she grudgingly brushed them off. Harry tried to suppress a laugh at the memory of the time Barty Crouch Jr., who at the time he'd thought was Alastor Moody, had turned Malfoy into an actual ferret which had proceeded to squirm through Goyles pants. He grinned at the thought, remembering the look of horror on Malfoy's face when McGonagall had managed finally changed him back.

"What are you smiling about," Ginny said, grabbing his tea which was resting forgotten in his hand.

"I was remembering the time Moody turned Malfoy into a ferret." Ron laughed.

"And I said I wanted to save the image in my mind forever before Hermione ruined it with some quote from a teacher protocol book." Ginny joined in and Hermione scowled.

"Ronald! Student-teacher spell contact is strictly prohibited by-"

"Hermione," Ginny said, grabbing her shoulder. "You're not helping yourself."

They laughed for at least five minutes, Harry remembering the way Hermione used to raise her hand in class, and all the times him and Ron had fallen asleep in history, and all the days he'd spent with Ginny on the grounds.

"It's hard to believe Hogwarts was only three years ago." Ron said, wiping a tear from his eye. "It feels like ages." Ginny groaned.

"I miss it, " She said, glancing into his tea, which was only a dribble of leaves clinging to the mugs bottom. "Remember in third year when Trelawney predicted Harry's death."

"Still alive," Harry said, triumphantly, as Ron scrambled to his feet, walking towards the kitchen counter and grabbing a half-empty bottle of firewhisky from the cabinet. He pulled two mugs from the same place and slid them in front of Hermione and Ginny.

"To us," He said, dumping a bit of the drink into each of there mugs. "Still alive after all this time." Harry couldn't help smiling again as he clinked his chipped cup with Hermione.

"Cheers."

The memory was still ripe in his mind as he lay in bed that night, full of Kreachers steak and kidney pie, and with a thick parchment envelope clutched to his chest.

"Astoria Greengrass," He whispered to himself, thinking of the paper crumpled in his hand. And with that thought lingering in his mind, he turned out the bedroom light.

**Admittedly more of an ending** **for the first chapter than anything else. Question for you-how do you all want this to go? Would you rather the entire thing be from Harry's point of view? Would you like some coverage of the other "couples?" Any other narrators? Leave me a review below.**


	3. Chocolate, Raspberry, and Rematches

**Ok, this is kind of a frequently asked question; I know Astoria was a couple years younger than Harry in cannon. Just go with it.**

"Fastest broom in the world-better than the bloody _Firebolt_!" Harry grinned at the throng of boys gathered around the quidditch store, eyeing the _Firebolt 2000_, the latest racing broom as of last month. The boy who had spoken was rather tall with curly blonde hair and big gaping brown eyes hidden under large square spectacles, and as he turned to his friend to list the brooms superior attributes to all previous models Harry was strongly reminded of Ron.

He took a sip of his coffee, which he'd picked up at the leaky caldron on the way into the Alley, even though he was nearly twenty years old, and could apparate (with several months of coaching from Hermione) perfectly well, Harry could never shrug the habit of entering through muggle London. He'd come to Diagon Alley on the pretense of picking up a fresh bag of owl treats for Louis, the rather scruffy owl he'd purchased last year after Hermione had refused to let him borrow Demeter-who at the point was practically living at his house. He had begrudgingly agreed, and disgruntled fumbling Louis had his own charm that reminded Harry strongly of Neville Longbottom, but he doubted they would ever grow as close as he had to hedwig.

Honestly, owl treats were on the back of his mind. A week had passed since he'd met with Astoria, and in that time he'd managed to convince Ron and Ginny to meet with there Slytherin counterparts (though Hermione remained stubbornly marooned in her room). As far as he could tell from the bits of Ron's emotional (and very loud) rant, his best mates meeting with Parkinson had gone over with a lot of arguing and shouting, knowing the two of them it probably would have been worthy of Rita Skeeter's gossip column. The details were a bit foggy, as Ron's words had been difficult to discern, but whatever they had said had escalated enough to get them kicked out of the Hog's Head, a pub well publicised for it's admittance of rather shady customers. Ginny had returned a mere 30 minutes after leaving, wand in hand, muttering something about a tricky hex and scummy pureblood activists. He hadn't seen her since, but it had only been a few hours ago that she'd disappeared, so he wasn't worried. Ginny could take care of her self.

Still, Harry's life had gone of the deep end a bit in the last couple days, and he would've used nearly any excuse to escape the confines of the burrow. Even Grimmauld place had become unbearable as his friends had taken to flooing over in turn to talk (very loudly) about whatever was bothering them, and digging into his reserves of tea faster than Kreacher could replenish them.

People watching on Diagon Alley seemed the easiest escape. The well known little street had been quiet in the years after the war, the shops still plastered with wanted posters and purple flyers, even a few "undesirable no. 1" pictures had survived. About six months ago, after dealing with Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, and most prevalently the ministry, Kinsley had arranged a task force to rebuild the Alley. It was nowhere near as crowded as it had been nine years ago when Hagrid had taken him to buy his first year school things, but as a plump which in emerald green robes teetered by his bench muttering about the price of dragons hide Harry couldn't help but smile.

He'd stopped by Eeylops Owl Emporium to pick up the treats (he really did need some), and flourish and blotts, to sell a large stack of Lockhart's books he'd found in his school trunk. Getting it from the Dursleys had been awkward to say the least, as he hadn't expected to see them again after his seventeenth birthday-but to his surprise his little bedroom was untouched, and the small family had been terse but not rude as he visited them one last time.

Harry wiped a sleeve across his forehead, glancing across the street. his In the heat of the day Florian Fortescue's little ice cream stand, it's colorful banner still waving proudly after all this time, was very tempting, and Harry decided to risk the trek across the road for a cone chocolate and raspberry with extra nuts.

He was in cognito, which felt terribly stupid, but he really wasn't in the mood for a mob of crazed followers asking him to sign their napkins. Honestly a baseball cap (to cover his tell-tale hair) and a pair of contacts, which he loathed, were usually enough to disguise him. But he'd also strapped on a pair of ray-ban, because it was crowded and if anyone recognized his green eyes...Harry shuddered.

Somehow, he managed to make it to the shop without incident. Harry strode up to the booth, the line had cleared, attempting to be casual and glanced into the window.

"Hullo," Florean Fortescue said brightly, sliding a menu across the service window. "What can I get for you today?" Harry pushed his sunglasses further up his nose.

"Chocolate and Raspberry, extra nuts," He said, smiling at the smells wafting from the little cart. "Please," he added quickly, starting out of his trance as the little man turned to go. Florean Fortescue, instead of going on with scooping out the ice cream, made an abrupt about face, staring at Harry in a very peculiar way before breaking out into a grin.

"Little Harry Potter," He said, his smiling growing wider. Harry cursed under his breath. "I'm sure it's you young man! I remember when you were only thirteen years old, coming over here to finish your history homework-"

"Yes, yes alright," Harry said pulling his hat farther over his forehead so the brim shadowed his face and doing a quick sweep of the idle shop to check that no one had heard the vendor. When he was sure he hadn't been spotted he looked back at Florean who was staring at him in a rather disgruntled way, like he hadn't been ironed after a go through the wash.

"I suppose you get a lot of people noticing you on the streets I didn't mean to be-"

"No no," Harry said, trying not to sound too frustrated. "It's not that at all, I just-" he winced slightly. "I'm in disguise Florean-I don't want anyone mobbing me."

"Oh," the ice cream man grinned. "That's alright then," he said, running a finger over his lips. "Mums the word." Florean swiveled around to fetch the nuts as Harry glanced around the shop once more to check for crazed fan's-all of which made him feel very self-centered and awkward.

And then he spotted her, leaning against one of the candy striped umbrellas that shaded the ice cream stands little red tables, her blonde hair was braided haphazardly over the shoulder of a white t-shirt with the british flag plastered over it's front. He grinned and nearly called out-but then remembered that she might not recognize him, they'd only really met once. He grabbed his cone from Florean muttering a quick thank you and handing him a few sickles, and then rushed over to Astoria who was seated now, peering into a small blue leather book. He was about as close as he could get now without touching her, and so figuring it would be simplest he tapped the blonde on the shoulder.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" Harry barely had time to squeeze out a "Bloody Hell!" Before his body went rigid, and he toppled backward, his sunglasses slipping off his nose, his wild hair slipping out his hat. His ice cream falling tragically to the cobblestones.

"Oh my god!" Astoria squealed, kneeling down towards his head and waving her hands awkwardly around her face. "Harry I didn't-Oh Merlin!" Harry tried to shake his head, but the body bind kept him still. _Please no one notice me, please!_

"Erm," Astoria said, glancing quickly back and forth. "I don't-" She leaned in towards his chest as if to check his breathing. "Thank merlins saggy left buttcheek you're alive!" She looked at him in a relieved way that warranted response-but the spell, which was impressively strong-restrained him.

"I mean I don't know what I would've done if I'd killed Harry bloody Potter-I think all of Britain would come rioting at my doorstep. I'd have to go live amongst the woodland people." She smirked as if this was some sort of odd inside joke he had no precedent on which to understand. Harry, though very keen on talking with her would rather like it if she would perform the counter curse-as people were starting to stare at his stiff body, and Astoria was still kneeling very close...

"Oh!" She said suddenly, interrupting her own rambling speech. "Finite Incantatem." Harry blinked and stretched his arms, once again limber-scrambling rather stiffly to his feet and tugging his hat back over his hair.

"Merlin's saggy left buttcheek?" Harry said, grinning as he popped the sunglasses up with the toe of his trainers. Astoria blushed deeply and punched his shoulder good naturedly. He tried not to wince, her bony knuckles reminded him unpleasantly of aunt Petunia.

"I thought you had died!" Harry grinned and placed a hand over his heart.

"I didn't know how much you cared." She grumbled something about scar headed idiots and then sighed, glancing at his waffle cone which had shattered on impact.

"I don't think I can save that-my 'repario' has always been a bit rusty." She glanced over at the little white metal table-cut out in a pattern that reminded him of the paper snowflakes he'd made in primary school. Resting in it's center was a glittering crystal bowl piled high with-he grinned-chocolate and raspberry, extra nuts. "I have plenty," Astoria finished, as though reading his thoughts. He grinned plopped down in one of the little white chairs, and Astoria did the same, her pale features striped with the red light that filtered through the worn umbrella.

"What?" She asked frowning, and Harry realized he'd been smiling.

"You look like a human candy cane," he said matter-of-factly grabbing the little silver spoon ducked under the cherry that topped off her Sunday. "And I'm going to eat _all_ of your ice cream." She laughed, then pointed over in the direction of Flourish and Blotts. "Isn't that Weasley _kissing_ Pansy!"

Harry was so startled he dropped the spoon, which he'd positioned just above a great cluster of nuts, nearly toppling his chair as he swiveled in his chair. "Where?" He said turning squinting through his contacts as he turned back to Astoria who was taking a heaping bite of ice cream.

"Gryffindors," she said, grinning as she twirled her spoon through the dessert which was just out of Harry's reach. "So gullible."

"You sneaky bastard!" He said grabbing for the bowl which she pushed away with her pinky finger.

"I thought we were past petty insults Harry," she said with a dramatised sigh."

"Restricting ice cream crosses the line," Harry said grinning as he slipped his wand from under his sleeve. "Expelliarmus!" The bowl, and the spoon which was dangling from the Slytherins left hand soared towards his ready hands and he grinned at her surprised expression. Before she could do anything else he balanced a great scoop of chocolate on the teaspoon and shoved it into his mouth, bits of ice cream dripping down his chin. She laughed as she wincing at the state of his face.

"That's disgusting-you realize the human mouth is not meant for that quantity of ice cream." Harry took on a solemn expression and mimicked the voice Dumbledore had always done before telling him something unspeakably wise that he would only appreciate a few months later.

"Alas, I adhere to no such restrictions." She laughed again.

"Well you look like a dunderhead." Harry grinned, an idea forming in his head.

"Here," he said, grabbing a napkin from the plastic dispenser. "You've got something on your nose." He reached over, and just as his had reached her face he stuffed his hand into the soupy ice cream and wiped it across her cheek. Astoria's jaw dropped and then she frowned.

"Oh I see-a rematch." Harry flinched at the reminder of the tickling battle they'd had only last week-which was his fatal mistake. He felt the cold stuff slosh over his forehead and quickly wiped his napkin over his exposed eyes, tossing a gob of sundae blindly towards the blonde. A squeal told him he'd met his mark, and soon the two of them were catapulting ice cream across the sticky table, laughing and screaming in Astoria's case.

"OY!" Harry blinked through a great chunk of frozen raspberry and spotted Florean Fortescue, a bit of chocolate dribbling through his wispy silver beard. Astoria, who was drenched in pink covered her mouth and Harry couldn't help grinning.

"Sorry Florean," He said catching Astoria's eye and sliding out of his chair. "We were just-er-leaving." The blonde Slytherin turned to follow him, digging a pale hand into her pocket and handing the angry vendor a green velvet pouch.

"Thank you for the ice cream," she said, obviously trying to keep a straight face as she turned and followed him towards the leaky caldron. Harry was very tempted to look back, if only ot see the expression on Florean Fortescue's face, but walked quickly to the shabby little coffee shop trying not to laugh-as he could practically feel the old man's eyes burning through his back.

"Oh god!" Astoria said when they were out of earshot, laughing as she met his eyes. "You look so awful! And not just because of that ridiculous hat!"

"I'm in disguise!" He said defensively, blushing a slight pink.

"_Really_?" Astoria asked widening her eyes. "Is there another world terrorist you're prophesied to overcome? Because I'll admit, that's a bit of a deal breaker."

"Well," he said smiling. "Do you want a list-or is this more of a prophecy to prophesy basis, because those are two _entirely_ different sets of paperwork." She shoved him playfully and laughed.

"You really are a mess though Potter-er Harry." She reddened and her mistake and Harry laughed, feeling that pleasant kind of awkwardness that always accompanied a new friendship.

"Well I've got to go back to Grimmauld place-Kreacher might call the aurors last time-and I've been a witness in that bloody trial room more than times than I can count," he glanced up at Astoria, making a split second decision. "But you can come by for lunch if you want."

The Slytherin girl looked startled, but then she grinned. "Yeah, that sounds brilliant."

**Basically fluff. But new chapter is coming like BACK TO BACK early. Hope you enjoyed and please review!**


	4. The Many Quirks of Grimmauld Place

**Fair warning, Harry and Astoria's friendship evolves quickly, even more so in this chapter. That's just sort of how I saw Harry in the book. Theres some mention of violence, and domestic abuse in this chapter though it's very brief and has to do with a separate character than our two leads. Enjoy!**

The main problem with living the estate of the largest pureblood family in Britain, was that it was very difficult to _live_ in. It had taken him ages to disable Moody's spells-along with the hoard of curses the deatheaters had left lying around-but it was still every once and a while that he stumbled upon something distinctly 'd figured they could apparate in, now that the fidelius charm had been permanently disabled by Kingsley.

How very wrong he was.

The moment Harry appeared on the muddy threshold just inside his door, he was greeted with a sharp pain in the space under his knees. He yelped and toppled over, hearing a startled cry that could only be Astoria's entrance, and a high creaky battle cry as a blur of gray ran at her so quickly Harry was hardly able to recognize his old house elf.

"You is a attacking master Harry! Filth, filth in Kreachers house, filth in the house of Kreachers ancestors!" Harry scrambled to his feet as Kreacher proceeded to whip the startled slytherin with what looked like one of Harry's dirty sweatshirts. Astoria yelped, eyes widened in complete surprise. Harry jumped towards her to intervene between the crazed elf and his newfound friend when there was an ominously familiar _swish_, and the dark curtains obscuring the portrait of Walburga Black tore open.

"Tainted blood in the house of my ancestors!" She screeched raising her painted wand angrily. "Destroyer of my lord filling the home with his mudblood filth!" Harry turned rushing once again obscure the portrait when there was another impressive yelp from Astoria's direction.

"Kreacher will protect master Harry from the wicked girl!" Astoria seemed to be in a state of complete shock, eyeing him with an expression that clearly said _are you serious_?

"No that's my dead godfather!" he said automatically, not realizing in his confusion that he'd uttered the statement aloud. He tugged the curtains back just as there was a roar of dust from the carpet below his feet. The ghost of Albus Dumbledore tore from the upholstery, flying towards Astoria in menacing silence. Harry cursed. This charm had been the only one he and Kingsley had had trouble with, they suspected it to be either something very old or possibly of mad-eyes invention, and in it's aging state it had a tendency to be a bit finicky. Still it hadn't erupted for at least six months and he'd assumed...

Astoria screamed, finally torn to her senses as the figure loomed over her, shadowing her slim figure.

"She didn't kill you, now go back to your bloody carpet!" Harry yelled frustratedly as he continued to tug at the wailing Walburga's curtains. "And Kreacher she's a friend, stop hitting her, help me with this one-" he said, pointing at Walburga who shrieked in outrage. "And then put that in the wash," he gestured to the hoodie which Kreacher promptly dropped, scowling quickly at Astoria before rushing over to Harry.

With the help of the elf Harry managed to close the thick curtains, silencing the crazed woman. He sighed, dropping to the floor and glancing apologetically at Astoria, whose jaw had dropped in shock. She closed her mouth quickly and grinned.

"Advanced security system?"

"More or less, he said, smiling and holding out his hand, which she took, hoping to her feet. "Lunch?"

Kreacher had thrown together a very pleasant bit of leftover steak and kidney pie, which he tossed on a couple of the black family plates, emblazoned with the thick black crest that was unavoidable at Grimmauld place, and muttering about idiotic blondes before disappearing into the main hall.

"Somehow," Astoria said spearing a bite with her fork, "I don't think he likes me."

"Kreachers just a bit odd," Harry said gesturing to the peeling wallpaper and ancient dusty furniture that littered the kitchen. "It's part of the charm." Astoria grinned.

"Frankly I expected a bit more grandeur from the chosen one." Harry huffed.

"I had a house, I took it."

"Naturally," Astoria said, taking a sip of the tea Kreacher had left out. "I also thought you would be one of those 'freedom for the elves' types." Harry shrugged.

"I might be, but if I freed Kreacher-" he shuddered. "Let's just say I wouldn't put murder past him." Astoria laughed pouring herself a bit of cream and pulling off her thin Navy sweater, no longer stained with ice cream (she'd performed a rather impressive _scourgify_ on the two of them).

"So Weasley and Pansy," She said, propping her chin up on her elbow. "I'll admit I haven't suffered a rant _that_ intense since the great haircut scandal of 1996." Harry grinned.

"If you think she topped Ron I have serious reservations about your sanity." She laughed again, and Harry was reminded of the strong contrast it held to her tinkly voice.

"Ah, but my story involves an array of readily available Greengrass heirlooms, most of which are both highly breakable and irreplaceable." Harry held up his hands in submission.

"What about Ginny and Nott? I haven't heard from her all day." Astoria shook her head.

"I've no idea. Theo muttered something about a potion for bat bogeys and then apparated off the who knows where." Harry winced at the thought of that particularly potent hex, remembering the time slughorn had recruited her to his elite club of talented and connected students purely for its impressive display.

"Poor bloke," he said shaking his head. "Though he's probably better off than Malfoy-I've no idea what Hermiones doing in her bedroom but it definitely involves explosives." Astoria shook her head bemusedly.

"If there's anyone you should be feeling sorry for it's Blaise-hasn't come out of the library since he met with Lovegood, he's buried himself in disproving something called a Snorkack." Harry snorted.

"Never going to work with Luna. I doubt she'd stop believing if you put her in Azkaban." Astoria took another bite of her lunch.

"I never understood where she got it from. Is she just a bit loopy?" Harry felt his eyes soften at the statement, and he looked down at his lap.

"Luna lost her mum when she was nine. I don't think she was ever really right afterwards-she didn't like to talk about, but she could see the thestrals when we, erm, raided the ministry of magic." Astoria's eyes had narrowed with genuine concern.

"I never realized."

"Luna's not one for attention-at the very least she doesn't want to be pitied." Harry said trying to sound comforting. "You couldn't have known." Astoria nodded half-heartedly, taking a quiet sip of her tea.

"Pansy's not so bad you know," she said suddenly. Harry started, as the statement seemed a bit out of the blue. Harry didn't want to seem rude, but at the mention of Parkinson dozens of memories flashed before his mind, none of them particularly pleasant. "She wasn't always-the way she is." Astoria said quickly, like she was afraid she wouldn't be able to get all the words out. "She had this sister, about ten years older than us who she adored. When Pansy was nine, her sister, Yvette, eloped with this muggle man who lived in the little town nearby-it turned out they'd been meeting together for ages. Pansy's parents, they said Yvette was a traitor, but secretly Pansy missed her awfully. I remember it, she would always cry herself to sleep when she came to our house. Anyway when Pansy was ten she hopped this trolley into town to find Yvette while her parents were at a Ministry dinner-and when she found the address, she saw her sister through the window arguing with this guy, Paul or something. And then he freaked out and hit her really hard across the cheek. And Yvette was crying and when she pulled her wand out of her sleeve the guy pulled out a gun-" Astoria gulped. "Yvette said she didn't want to hurt him, that she still loved him, and when she raised her hands to-I don't know, _surrender_, Paul thought she was going to cast some sort of spell. I guess he got scared...but he fired and when he saw what he'd done-he put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger."

Harry had gone white as a sheet. He didn't know why Astoria was telling him this, put she was still talking like she had to get the words out of her mouth. "Pansy, Pansy didn't tell her parents, I don't know if they ever knew. But-she was raised to think muggles were filth and when she saw what Paul did, I don't think she ever forgave him. Harry that's why she hate muggles-not some stupid pureblood stereotype and I just had to..." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I've never told anyone that, you just sort of...reminded me." Harry felt a single tear rising in his eye. It seemed weird that she would tell him, not one of the Slytherins she knew so well for so many years. But he felt like he could trust her, and the story had shaken him to say the least.

"I had nightmares for weeks," Astoria said slowly. "After she told me in third year. I had confronted her about calling that Granger girl-you're friend-a mudblood. I told her it was stupid, so she told me the story." She sighed. "I shouldn't be telling you this, you probably think I'm crazy, but I trust you. I don't know why. Maybe because you're a Gryffindor and I know you haven't got it in you to manipulate me."

Harry smiled at the weak joke. "You know I grew up with muggles." Harry said, before he could stop himself. "My mom's sister Petunia." Astoria reddened.

"I didn't mean to-your family-"

"Don't worry about it." Harry said, his expression darkening. "We didn't exactly have a fond relationship."

"The cooking," Astoria said, frowning. "You made me pasta."

"I've been able to cook since I was six," he said with a dark smile. "Aunt Petunia figured if I was going to ruin her perfect life I might as well work for it." He glanced up at the blonde. "The Weasleys were the first real family I ever had." He expected Astoria to look surprised-_the chosen one not worshiped by his relatives_? Or possibly a bit sympathetic of his twisted childhood but she just frowned.

"I always wondered about that. Why the Weasley's, you could had nearly anyone on the train as a friend." Harry thought about that for a moment, remembering that day on the platform, lost and alone and eleven in a world that was not his own.

"Because they were willing to help the poor little muggle boy who couldn't figure out how to get to the platform, rather than the 'famous Harry Potter'. Molly Weasley, putting seven children through the most prestigious wizarding school in Britain on barely enough money for one, and she wasn't the least bit impatient." He sighed remembering how nervous he'd felt, sitting completely alone on a train full of strangers, watching the first proper family he'd ever seen like someone might whip them out of his sight at any second. "And Ron was the first person who ever _wanted_ to share anything with me, first person who seemed like just as much of an outcast as I was-a pureblood who didn't act on it you know? We've sort of been best mates since we met."

"What'd you mean the first?" Astoria asked frowning. Harry shrugged.

"My cousin was kind of the school bully, he had this game called Harry-hunting-" he shuddered. "The kid's at my primary school stayed away from me if they knew what was good for them." Astoria smashed her fist against the table, which nearly made Harry jump.

"I _hate_ bullies. Millicent Bulstrode always used to pick on me at school. Even after I got to know Blaise and Draco I'd always tell them when they were being idiots," She grinned. "They usually didn't listen, but I felt like I made an effort." Harry smiled weakly.

"I think we treaded into kind of deep territory for a second meeting don't you think," he said, and Astoria laughed.

"It was nice, being real with someone who I haven't known since I was eleven." Harry joined in.

"I guess that's the trial of living with five people for seven years," he said thinking of his old Gryffindor dorm mates and how they must be dealing with this law. "Though honestly it was always kind of me Ron and Hermione against the world." Astoria grinned.

"We all wondered what you talked about, all huddled up at one end of the gryffindor table for seven years. I think it drove Draco a bit mad." Harry lifted his teacup raising it towards the blonde, who followed suit.

"That's all we ever wanted to do." The clinked their cups, and Harry slumped back into his chair, feeling oddly like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He hadn't warmed to someone so quickly since first year, but it was as though him and Astoria just sort of clicked. He couldn't explain it, but he wished he'd known her sooner. For the first time he cursed the way the houses of Hogwarts were separated, the Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalry that had always come so naturally.

"I always wondered why we all had to hate each other," Astoria said, as if she had read his thoughts. "It sort of felt right at the time, but looking back on it all seems terribly stupid." Harry nodded.

"I could've done with a bit of insider information on the whole quest-to-save-all-wizard-kind bit of my life," he said trying to sound pondering. "Don't get me wrong I love a good reveal but I wouldn't have minded a few less of them..." Astoria rolled her eyes and took a final swig of her tea.

"I suppose in national terrorism predictability is to be aspired to," she said with a dramatic sigh. "But everything would be dreadfully boring without a few plot twists."

"Of course," Harry said, trying not to laugh at her solemn expression. "If we're denied the entertainment of it all what's the point, actual integrity?" He snorted. "Why would anyone bother with that?"

They both burst out laughing.

By the time they'd finished Kreacher had come flying in, still wielding Harry's sweatshirt, under the pretense that they were being tortured. Talking through his laughter Harry finally managed to explain that they were perfectly alright, though he could have sworn the elf muttered something about "master Harry losing his sanity properly this time" before he retreated into the confines of the manor.

"So," Harry said, clutching his stomach. "I've told you about my family-how about these elusive Greengrasses?"

"You sound like you're expecting something exciting," Astoria said, undoing the remainder of her braid and tying her long blonde hair at the nape of her neck. "I'd love to tell you they were American spies serving a great purpose to the order-of-the-odd-something-or-other but their really dreadfully ordinary." Harry looked at his hands, counting off on his fingers.

"Well we've ruled out crazed pureblood activists and American spies, but I'm afraid that's still a rather broad category."

Astoria shrugged. "My parents married young, 18, and neither of there families approved. The wedding was only friends, and my mum who was a Burke, was disowned. My dad got the Greengrass title though, probably because there was no one else to take it. My sister Daphne works at st. Mungos, we had a few rows, but usually we got along." She shrugged half heartedly. "There really isn't much more to tell." Harry smiled wistfully at the thought of having a mother and a father and a sister-a family. It was something he hadn't thought of properly in a while, not since the night in the forest when he'd seen his parents for the last time.

"You don't know how lucky you are," he said, noticing Astoria staring at him. She looked vaguely uncomfortable, and Harry blushed awkwardly.

Astoria glanced down at her watch and jumped. "Bloody hell I'm late," She said, nearly sending her teacup flying as she jumped to her feet. "I told my mum half and hour." Harry glanced at the clock on the mantle with wide eyes, it was nearly four.

"Time flies," he muttered, ignoring the blonde's confused expression at the muggle saying. He stood, and walked towards the door. "I'll show you out, the house has a few," Harry winced. "Complications."

Astoria smiled. "I've heard."

**If you liked it or if you didn't, please review! Thanks for reading.**


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